An Inconvenient Intervention
by HlysComment
Summary: Neal's team is heartbroken but determined when Neal cuts his anklet and makes a run for it but is that the real story? Will Peter believe Neal's story? Maybe the more important question is, Will Neal survive to tell the tale?
1. He Works Hard for the Money

**This is my first White Collar FanFic. I hope you will all enjoy.**

**I neither have nor claim to have any rights pertaining to any other than original characters used in the story below. White Collar belongs to someone else and I'm just have some fun with it.**

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Neal felt a sigh erupt unbidden from his lips at the sight of June's house in the distance. It was good to be home.

Home. It had been a difficult concept most of his life. So much so, that he'd spent his adult life moving from place to place. Whoever said, "You can't miss what you never had." Neal had never had a real home before but when he'd found his place with June and Mozz and Peter and the FBI, he'd found a home, a resting place. As soon as he understood what that felt like, he realized he'd been looking for it his entire life.

"You okay?" Peter asked from the driver's seat.

"What?" Neal responded and realized they were now parked in front of June's house and probably had been for a moment or two. "Me? Yeah, I'm fine."

Neal noted that Peter did not frown but only with a small amount of effort.

"That deal with the Cocotori was hairy. It shouldn't have happened. I'm sorry."

Neal shrugged. "No big deal. I had my guardian angels listening in. I knew you'd take care of it."

Peter shook his head. "You kept your head on straight when everything went sideways."

Neal started to interrupt again but Peter held up his hand.

"I'm trying to tell you that you did good out there today, alright?"

Neal opened the passenger door of the Taurus and climbed out of the car with a dismissive grunt. Peter followed him.

"It was nothing, Peter." Neal said with a smile. "All in a day's work, right?"

Peter sighed. "Yeah, speaking of…" He pulled the anklet out of his pocket.

Neal's smiled slipped only for a second but long enough for Peter to catch it.

"Yeah," Neal smirked. "My old friend. What would I do without it?" He put his foot on the bumper of the car and Peter quickly fastened the device into place.

Peter seemed embarrassed by the process and Neal decided to try to ease the atmosphere.

"Hey, Peter." Neal said in a serious tone. "When my time's up, do I get to keep the anklet?"

Peter's eyebrows raised. "You wanna keep it?"

"Ehhh, I was thinking more along the lines of BBQ." He said and was rewarded with a low chuckle from Peter.

Neal gave Peter a pat on the arm and walked briskly across the street to the front door calling over his shoulder, "I'll see you on Monday. Maybe we could work on something that doesn't involve mobsters who are armed to the teeth?"

Peter smiled and called out, "I make no promises." As he climbed into his car.

He waited for Neal to shut the front door behind him before he drove off home to Elizabeth.

* * *

Elizabeth sighed as she put the final touches on next week's schedule. It was going to be tight but she was pretty sure she could get everything done and the revenue would certainly be appreciated.

She closed her laptop and moved it from the table to the buffet where it could charge overnight out of the way. Peter always worried about someone tripping over the wire when it was on the table. Peter was an excellent worrier. She smiled at the thought and looked into the living room where Peter seemed to be doing some world class worrying at that very moment.

"Hey, Babe." She called as she entered the room.

Peter started but looked up with a smile.

"Hi, Honey."

Elizabeth curled up onto the couch next to him and noticed that he was watching an after game special.

"Who won?" She asked.

Peter blinked for a few moments before finally confessing, "You know, I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention."

"I thought it might be something like that." She hugged him a little more closely. "What's worrying you?"

"I'm not worried."

"Sure you're not."

"I'm not!" Peter retorted. "I'm just… Well, today was a hard bust. The situation was dangerous but Neal went in anyway and he almost got himself killed. Then at the end of the day I still had to put that damn anklet on him."

"Ahhh," Elizabeth sighed. "It doesn't seem like a fair reward to you."

Peter seemed surprised but nodded. "Yeah, in some ways it almost seems like taking advantage of him. It's like Neal is a child. He's so…I don't know."

Elizabeth nodded. "Neal respects you. Maybe a little too much. If you ask him to do something, he'll do it."

Peter slapped his hand against the arm of the couch, "Exactly. It's like he doesn't even care about how dangerous it is. He just jumps into it. I feel guilty asking him to go into dangerous situations because I know that he won't stop to consider the danger to himself. He doesn't think things through."

"Because he trusts you." Elizabeth ended for him. "And you get to reward his trust by putting a leash on him."

Peter nodded and Elizabeth tightened her hug for another moment.

"I think Neal understands that this is a necessary evil, Sweetie. I think he knows that, when it counts, you trust him."

"You really think so?" Peter said holding her close.

"Yeah. I really do. And I am the smartest person you know."

Peter chuckled.

"Something else is bothering me though." He said after a long pause.

Elizabeth craned her head back awkwardly in his embrace trying to read his eyes.

"What?"

"Today Neal mentioned the end of his confinement and it got me thinking, when this is all said and done, which side is Neal going to be on? Am I going to have to track him down again?"

Elizabeth let that sink in for a moment and remembered the three long years of Peter's frustration as time and again Neal slipped through one carefully laid trap after another. Then Neal had been Caffrey. No, he'd been "that smug-sonofabitch-Caffrey!"

"What would his other options be?" She said at last.

"Well, he couldn't be an agent. He has a criminal background. He could still be a consultant, though with the fees he could charge at that point I'm not sure the Bureau could afford him. He could be an investigator for an insurance company. There are plenty of professions that could make use of his background and talents, I guess."

"Have you talked to him about this?"

Peter frowned. "Well, no. He's got another three years and change. It's not as though it's a pressing matter."

Elizabeth nodded. "That's true but you've gotta figure if you're already thinking about what's gonna happen when Neal is a free man, he's probably thinking along the same lines. Besides talking to him about his options after his release would indicate a level of trust on your part, wouldn't it?"

Peter pulled his head back to better examine his wife's expression. "You really are the smartest person I know."

Elizabeth snuggled closer to his chest to help hide her smug smile as she replied. "I know."

They were allowed to enjoy the comfort of the moment for a bit longer before the phone rang. It was Peter's work phone and had to be answered.

"This is Agent Burke." Peter said a bit gruffly, annoyed at being interrupted.

"Sir, this is Jones. Um, there's a bit of a problem, sir, with Caffrey."

Jones seemed to be hesitating. "Spit it out Jones, what's the problem?"

"It's his anklet, Sir." Jones said with true regret in his voice. "He's cut it."

Peter felt his back go rigid, forcing Elizabeth to sit back and away from him.

"When did this happen?"

"It was about 45 minutes ago." Jones said briskly.

"45 minutes ago? And you're just contacting me now?" Peter roared and rose from the couch.

"I take full responsibility for that, sir." Jones' words were tight and clipped. "I assumed the anklet was malfunctioning and went to Caffrey's place to take a look at it."

Peter shivered at the disembodied sigh.

"The place was cleaned out. All of his personal belongings were gone. Clothes, shoes, everything."

Peter was without words for a moment. "But that doesn't make any sense!" He finally exclaimed.

"He was on a mission today. We've been pulling late nights all week. When would Neal even have time to clean out his stuff?"

"I don't know, sir. I just know that it and Caffrey are gone."

"Peter?" Elizabeth's voice was unsure and worried. "Peter what is it? What's going on? Is Neal okay?"

Peter looked into her anxious face and felt his stomach plunge as it never had on any roller coaster ride.

"No, El. Neal's going back to prison, damn him." Then into the phone. "Jones get everyone back to the office and contact local law enforcement. I'm heading to Neal's place to see what I can see but I want the Marshalls, NYPD and even the USPS on this ASAP, you hear me?"

"I hear you, boss." Jones replied and the line went dead.

"El, I'm sorry Honey but I think it's gonna be another long night." Peter said as he grabbed his coat & keys and rushed out the door.

Elizabeth said nothing. Normally she would have said, "Good luck." Peter wondered if she'd hesitated. He wasn't sure she wanted him to catch Neal. Peter wasn't sure either.

"Damnit, Neal." Peter murmured as he rushed down his front steps, got into the Taurus and headed across town.


	2. Ironic

Neal felt strange. He had apparently been sleeping on a cot of some sort and groaned as he tried to sit up. The nerves of his body lit up with even the slightest movement and his head ached. He recognized the feeling. A moment after his groan a light flipped on and seared into his eyes. Even after he shut them he felt the need to shield them from the brightness as his pupils were slow to adjust to the light.

Neal heard someone rushing toward him and blindly back pedaled away from the invisible onslaught.

"Neal, Neal!" A young female voice called from the direction of the unseen attacker. "It's just me, Ariel! It's okay. You're safe now! We've rescued you!"

Neal tried to force his eyes open to see the face that went with the voice but all he could manage was rapid blinking.

"Ari-elly?" He queried. "Who's we? Who tazed me? I hate being tazed."

Neal could almost hear the youngster biting her lip. He automatically wondered how many times he'd tried to break her of the habit. _Only project confidence when you're unsure. I don't ever want to see you biting your lip unless you're deliberately projecting insecurity to a mark._

"Stop biting your lip, Elly." He found himself scolding and heard a familiar tittering laugh that was quickly followed by a hug made disconcerting for the fact that he couldn't see it coming.

"Oh Neal! I missed you!"

"Looks like she's still sweet on you, Caffrey." A gruff voice chuckled. From the direction and echoes of the room, Neal guessed he was about 8 feet away and standing near an open door.

"Donaghey? Is that you?" Neal asked.

"Yep, we decided it was time to bust you loose, son."

Neal was finally able to keep his eyes open though they were annoyingly watery.

"What do you mean cut me loose? I…" Then Neal stopped abruptly and reached for his ankle. "Oh, no."

"Look at him."

Neal followed the disgusted voice to the owner.

"Sam?"

A tall, thin, and balding man stood in the doorway. He shook his head scornfully. "Look at you, Neal. It's pathetic."

"What they've done to me? What've you done to me? You tazed me! You CUT MY ANKLET!" Neal angrily started to stand but the room tilted to one side and he sat back down abruptly.

"Listen to yourself, Neal." Donaghey's rough voice pleaded as the large bearded man walked toward the cot. "You're angry at your friends to setting you loose. You're mind's not right. They've got you twisted."

"Yeah, Neal. We're here to help you." Elly pleaded.

Neal looked at her and for a moment was taken aback. When last he'd seen Ariel she'd been a skinny 13 year old with freckles and potential and not much more. The girl staring at him now could have been a model. Make up dimmed the freckles, her hair was styled fashionably and, well, there had been two new additions.

"Elly?" Neal felt unsure suddenly.

The girl smiled. "You were in prison, Neal. A really lame prison and we got you out. You should be grateful."

"Um, okay. If you're doing me such a great favor, why was I tazed?" Neal's voice was ice cold. "Wouldn't a, 'Hi, Neal, we're here to spring you' have been more appropriate?"

"We had to do it this way, Neal. Donaghey said you wouldn't come with us. He said they brain washed you."

"No one brain washed me, Elly. I'm fine. Or I WAS fine until you cut my anklet." Neal shook his head angrily. "I'm gonna have a great time explaining this to Peter."

"See, that's the problem, Neal." Donaghey said and, sitting next to him on the cot put his arm around Neal's shoulders. "They've got your mind twisted around thinking you're one of them. You're not, boy. You're one of us." He patted Neal's back warmly. "We've got to get your head straight as to who your friends are."

"Peter is my friend." Neal barked.

Donaghey laughed and laboriously got up from the cot. "C'mon Elly, Sam. Let's give him a minute to cool off."

The girl bit her lip and hesitated. The balding man was already out the door.

"Elly." Donaghey's previously good natured voice dropped a register, suddenly becoming menacing. "I said leave him."

Elly flashed an apologetic glance at Neal before hurrying out the door.

Neal became desperate. "Donaghey, I'm sorry. You were trying to help me out. I get that and thanks, man. Really, thanks, but you don't seem to get it. I have a job. I have a team. The FBI are my team and I respect them and" he paused and stood up, trying to make clear eye contact with his old mentor "and they respect me. I don't need rescuing so you can just, you can just let me go. I can square this with Peter, I know I can. It'll be like it never happened."

Donaghey stood in the entry with the doorknob in his hand and shook his head sadly. "You really believe that. That's the sad part."

He moved forward and put his hand on Neal's shoulder.

"Neal, the FBI aren't your friends. They aren't your team and they never will be. To them, you will always be 'Neal Caffrey, the convict'. They don't really trust you. They don't really care about you. You're only good to them as long as you're useful and when they're done with you, they'll leave you to the wolves."

Neal tried to protest but Donaghey's voice lowered menacingly again.

"You think no one has noticed that you're working with the FBI, Neal? You think people don't like rats, wait to you see how they feel about criminals who change sides!"

Neal paused. He honestly had never considered the fact that he was quietly but quickly amassing a laundry list of enemies.

"It's all well and good for an FBI agent to do his job and go after criminals." Donaghey said, "They're protected by the Bureau. No one in their right mind would go after an agent but you? You're free game."

Neal felt as though he'd swallowed a paperweight.

"You think your FBI friends care about that? I've been watching you, son. They send you into harm's way every other week and when all's said and done they won't trust you farther than two miles."

"Donaghey, the anklet is a requirement." Neal protested. "Peter trusts me. I know he does and I trust him."

Neal looked hopefully for understanding in Donaghey's face but found only sadness.

"Neal," he paused and seemed to be regrouping, "Neal, Burke is an agent. You're an asset, a tool. He uses you. At the end of the day, you're just another criminal to him. He doesn't care about you and, Neal, listen to me boy, he does not trust you."

Neal started to protest again but Donaghey held up his hand.

"I can see this is gonna take some time for you to accept." He shrugged, "That's okay. I prepared for it." He made his way back to the door. "We're just gonna keep you here for a while so you don't do anything stupid like run back to the guy who hounded you for three years and put you in prison for another four."

Donaghey smiled and as he closed the heavy door said, "This is for your own good, Neal. You'll thank me for this one day."

Neal ran to the door and tried to pull at the knob but heard the click as the lock snapped into place. "Donaghey?" Neal called and banged futilely on the door but there was no answer.

He looked at his surroundings. There were no windows, no natural light at all. No wonder his eyes had taken so long to adjust. His pupils must have been the size of Frisbees when he'd woken up. The doorknob on his side was smooth. No possibility of picking it and Neal had distinctly heard the click of a padlock on the other side so slipping the lock wouldn't work.

Neal realized suddenly that his friends, in trying to free him, had ironically placed him in a confinement much more secure than any prison in which he'd ever spent time.

Neal meticulously went through the room and made a mental catalogue of every single item that was or could be at his disposal then sat on the cot and tried to reason through escape scenarios.

He had a difficult time because an annoyingly persistent thought kept interrupting his ruminations. Was Donaghey right? If Neal did manage to escape, would Peter really trust him?


	3. Out of the Frying Pan

Peter pulled his car into the alley garage and checked the console clock before shutting off the ignition. 11:13

Elizabeth would probably be asleep. But as he walked through the back garden he saw that the kitchen light was on. Maybe she'd left out something to eat in the kitchen and had left the light on for him. Tired, he fumbled with the key in the lock but he needn't have bother, the door opened.

"You're home." Elizabeth breathed, embracing him.

_What a woman. _Peter found himself thinking as he breathed deeply and felt himself relax for the first time all day. Most wives would be understandably put off, at least slightly, by their husband being out at all hours for almost two weeks straight. First with the Cocotori and now with the manhunt for Neal.

_Caffrey_. Peter scolded himself. He needed to think of Neal, of Caffrey as a suspect again. He was a criminal on the loose and it was Peter's job to track him down and put him back behind bars.

"Are you okay?" Elizabeth said as she finally pulled back and let him close the door behind him.

"Yeah. I'm tired. Worn out is probably a better way to put it but I'll live." Peter said as he took off his coat and hung it on the back of a kitchen chair. "Neal's not making it easy this time. I gotta admit, El, I'm stumped. It's like he dropped off the face of the Earth. I've…"

Peter stopped dead. There was an odd looking hat sitting on the table; a man's hat. He turned and looked a question at his wife who sort of bobbed in a movement almost like a curtsey.

"Um, yeah." She started. "About that, we sort of have a visitor."

"Hello, Suit." Said a distinctive, somewhat nasal voice from somewhere over Peter's shoulder.

Without turning Peter shook his head and replied, "How's it going, Mozzie?"

Mozzie dramatically stepped out of the shadows of the living room into the light of the kitchen table light fixture. "Not well, Suit. Not well."

"I can tell." Peter grunted, suddenly exhausted. "You only call me Suit when you're in a bad mood."

"Where's Neal?" they both said in unison and then stared, no glared at each other for a long moment.

It was Elizabeth who finally broke the silence. "Look, Honey. Mozz says he doesn't know where Neal is and I believe him."

Mozzie raised his hand and rolled his eyes. "Please, I'm no rube. I know when something underhanded is going on." He turned his attention away from Elizabeth and back to Peter. "You may have Mrs. Suit fooled but you don't fool me. There is no way, NO WAY Neal would disappear without giving me some kind of message. Not unless the leaving part wasn't his idea. You put him back in prison, didn't you? You just don't have the guts to admit it to your wife. Whom you, by the way, do not at all deserve."

Peter stared at the small, bespeckled and clearly furious man for a long moment.

"You mean, you really, honestly don't know where Neal is?"

Mozzie glared another long moment and seemed to make a decision that completely deflated him.

"You don't have him." He fairly whispered. Mozzie reached out for a chair and hurriedly sat down.

"If you don't have him, who does?"

"Mozz, are you sure Neal didn't leave of his own free will?"

Mozzie snorted. "Of course not. Neal completely bought into your rehabilitation bit. The only thing that could have possibly made him skip out on his anklet would have been some kind of breakthrough in the investigation into Kate's death and there is no way he'd have made a breakthrough that significant without my help. Period." Mozzie huffed. "You, he has a reason not to tell. Me, he'd tell. If only to say he'd be out of touch for a while. He'd never disappear without a word to me."

Peter considered that and couldn't argue with the logic. He honestly couldn't think of a reason Neal wouldn't at least tell Mozzie he was leaving.

"Of course," Peter considered aloud, "Neal could have sent you here as a distraction."

Mozzie didn't react.

"You come here, convince me Neal's disappearance wasn't voluntary and I waste time and resources looking for evidence of a kidnapping that never happened?"

Mozzie faintly smiled. "I'm impressed, Suit. That's a rather healthy level of paranoia. I'm sure you don't believe in the Moon landing. I suppose it's possible but it's not true. I don't know where Neal is but I'm certain wherever he is, he didn't go there of his own free will. That's assuming he's even …."

Mozzie stopped short, almost as if he was appalled by his own thought. Peter drew a blank for a brief moment before filling in the missing piece.

"Assuming he's even still alive." He finished solumnely.

Mozzie refused to react but Elizabeth was under no such compunction.

"Pickles." She breathed and sank into one of the kitchen chairs.

Peter pulled out a third chair and joined them, leaning across the table toward Mozzie.

"Mozzie, is there someone who might want to hurt Neal? Someone from his past? Maybe someone he double crossed?"

Mozzie snorted. "I think you'd be better able to answer that."

Peter shook his head, "I managed to catch him, Mozzie, but you know way more about his criminal activities than I do."

"You really don't get it, do you?" Mozzie barked. "The people most likely to hold a grudge against Neal aren't the criminals from his past but the criminals from his present, you troglodyte! You've got Neal helping you put people away left and right and it never once occurred to you that one of them might want some payback?"

"You mean, one of my collars?" Peter asked.

"They're not just your collars are they?" Mozzie spoke like he would to a small child. "You Feds are protected. You can go around arresting people and letting them out on bail and it doesn't matter because you're Feds. Neal isn't. He's just a consultant. A consultant serving out a prison sentence, no less. Are you honestly telling me it never occurred to you that one of these guys Neal helped put away wouldn't try for payback."

Peter felt heat in his cheeks and knew his uncontrollable blush would be all the answer Mozzie needed. "You're right, Mozzie. I didn't think of that. I guess I just thought of Neal as…" Peter gulped.

Elizabeth reached across the table and squeezed his arm. "You thought of him as a part of your team." She finished for him.

"That's touching." Mozzie stated flatly. "Well, maybe you should have thought of him as what he was. Maybe if you'd done that you wouldn't have left him exposed."

Elizabeth interrupted. "Mozz, you're not helping."

It was Peter's turn to interrupt. "No, El, he's right. I didn't protect Neal. I didn't even consider that he might need protection." Peter glanced at his watch and cursed. His wrist was bare.

"I keep forgetting." He hissed.

"Forgetting what?" Elizabeth asked.

"My watch." Peter sighed, rubbing his eyes. "My damn watch. For the Cocotori operation I exchanged my watch for one with a bug. I turned in the tech bug but I keep forgetting to get my watch out of the …"

Peter fell silent and still.

"Peter?" Elizabeth asked about a few seconds. "Peter, what is it?"

Peter suddenly seemed very excited. "The watch!" He exclaimed.

Mozzie gave Elizabeth a knowing look. "He's finally gone loopy. I win the pool."

Elizabeth frowned and opened her mouth for an angry retort but Peter jumped from the table, rummaging through the pocket of the coat draped on his chair.

"Jones" he fairly yelled into the phone. "This is very important, check the Cocotori file, after the sting did Neal remember to return his watch?"

There was a pause and then Peter closed his eyes with a sigh and whispered, "Yes!"

"Okay, call everyone up. That watch dumps data to a server. The server holds the data for a week before it clears it out. We've got to make sure we pull that data before the dump and midnight."

Peter had grabbed his coat and was heading for the door. When he reached it he pulled the phone away from his ear for a minute.

"El, honey, if I don't make it back tonight I'll call you tomorrow morning."

"Yes, yes, it's fine." Elizabeth said from the table.

As Peter shut the back door he heard her yell, "Good luck!" and smiled.


	4. I Ain't Been Dropping No Eaves

**WOW.**

**Thanks so much for all the reviews. It's really encouraging to see a story well received. I hope this next chapter meets with your approval. **

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Jones was waiting at the elevator when Peter got off.

"Tell me the technician stopped the dump." Peter grunted as they made their way through the entry.

"He did." Jones replied. "There were entries for three days following the operation but as long as the watch keeps sending information to the server, it's catalogued and…"

Jones handed Peter a file.

"transcripted." He finished with a relieved grin.

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Make sure I never, ever forget to take off one of these bugs."

Jones smiled and Peter was happy to see him so energetic. Peter took a moment to take in the room. The office buzzed as though every employee had been given a second wind. Then he saw a flash of red.

"Rice?" He called, and the ginger haired agent turned in his direction. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard Caffrey had disappeared and.." She shrugged. "I thought I'd lend a hand."

"Really?" Peter could hear his doubt coming through in the question. "You just decided to attach yourself to one of my investigations?"

Agent Rice blushed slightly. "Truth be told, I was a little worried that… Well, that it might have something to do with Wilkes. He wasn't granted bail but he has connections. When I heard Caffrey disappeared without a trace, I thought maybe Wilkes might have had something to do with it."

Peter felt as though he'd been punched. Kimberly Rice, the agent who a few months ago had callously dangled Neal out like a piece of live bait had had the insight to worry about a collar targeting Neal and Peter hadn't. What was wrong with him? Or a better question: What kind of a friend did that make him?

Peter shook that off. This wasn't really the time to be lecturing himself or cataloguing his faults. After almost a week they finally had a decent lead on where to find Neal. He needed to focus.

"So, why can't we track the watch using GPS?" Rice queried as they entered the conference room.

"It wasn't equipped with it." Agent Barrigan answered. "The idea to send Neal and Peter in as the buyers was last minute. We took what was available."

"Wait a minute." One of the Marshalls on the task force, Peter forgot his name, Warren? Weare? Whatever. "You're telling me a convicted felon was allowed to roam free with no means of detection whatsoever?"

"He wasn't 'roaming free'." Diana protested. "Agent Burke was with him at all times."

"And even so," Jones bristled. "It's a watch, not a tracking device like the anklet. Even if it had GPS, all Neal would have had to do is slip it off."

Peter found himself smiling listening to his team defending Neal but hardened his expression.

"The fact of the matter is that Neal Caffrey has been working faithfully for this office and this team for almost a year now. That has afforded him a measure of both trust and respect."

The Marshall snorted. "Yeah, that worked out well."

He looked around the room clearly expecting approval from the other agents present but was met with a wall of cold stares. The Marshall shifted his weight uncomfortably. "So, are we going to listen to what the bug recorded or not?"

Peter motioned to Jones who as he pressed a button on a remote explained, "The bug was in stand by mode which means it goes dormant when the mic doesn't detect noise over a certain volume. It's meant to conserve power but even so this one only recorded for three days before the battery gave out."

The room stilled as a strange noise filled the speakers followed by the sound of a grunt.

_Is he out? _

The voice sounded aged and a bit gruff. Peter would be willing to lay odds that the owner had smoked a few cigarettes in his day.

_Looks like it. Maybe we should give him a bit more juice just to be sure._

This voice was younger and nasal. Peter took an instant dislike to it.

_Sam._

Gruff voice again, and his tone was a warning.

_Fine, fine. _

There were muffled sounds and then a new voice appeared on the recording.

_Is he okay? He doesn't look good._

Peter looked up at that and found his eyes meeting Diana's. He was willing to bet his face mirrored her worried expression.

_Ah hell, Ariel, he's fine. It's a tazer. It's designed not to do permanent damage._

Nasal voice, or Sam, seemed annoyed by Ariel's concern.

_Ariel what have I told you about biting your lip?_

It was gruff voice again.

_Sorry, Donaghey._

"Okay", thought Peter, "now everyone's got a name."

_Is this really necessary? _Sam whined. _I mean, Neal left us as you may recall. He and Kate ran off on their own. Nobody asked them to leave. If he gets himself in trouble how is that our problem?_

_Yes, Sam, Neal and Kate left and now Kate is dead. _

Peter heard real sadness in Donaghey's voice.

_I'm not going to let that happen to Neal. _

_The truth is Neal got Kate killed._ Sam barked. _I personally don't give a rat's ass if he winds up the same. He's the one who got mixed up with the FBI. He's thinks he so damn smart. _

_Sam…_

Donaghey was scolding again.

_Neal is an artist. He has an artist's soul. He can't see what the FBI are doing to him. I'm sorry Kate is dead. She was like a daughter to me but you're wrong to blame Neal. Kate got into trouble by herself and refused our help when we offered it. Well, this time I'm not asking. We're helping Neal whether he likes it or not. _

_Neal's in trouble, _Sam interrupted, _because Neal got himself locked up!_

_Oh, like you've never done time. _Ariel's voice reappeared suddenly.

Peter heard a sharp sound he couldn't quite place at first. Then realized what it had been when he heard the girl's gasp and Donaghey roar.

_Sam! Don't you strike your sister._

_She's not my sister._ Sam retorted scornfully. _She's not my sister. You're not my father and this son of a bitch sure as hell ain't my brother. I'm not a kid anymore Donaghey. _

_No, you're not a kid but you're still a member of MY crew and as long as you are you will treat every member of MY crew with respect. _

There was a pause.

_I'm still in charge here, Sam. I decide whose on this crew and I decide what is and isn't worth doing. And I have decided that bringing Neal back onto the crew is what's best for all involved and is worth doing. If you have a problem with that, it's still a free country. There's the door._

Sam made no reply and it seemed they'd arrived at their destination.

_I'll take Neal to his room. You two unload his things. And Sam?_

There was a short pause.

_You behave yourself._

There was another pause and then the recording seemed to skip forward to the sound of a heavy door scraping open. Peter heard a grunt that sounded like Donaghey might be lowering Neal onto something.

_There you go boy. _

Donaghey chuckled.

_Just like the first time I met you, son. I'd never seen anything like you Neal. 13, living on the streets but still smart as a tack, neat as a pin and a smile to beat the British. I knew you were something special right away. We'll get you back on track and we'll all be sittin pretty again._

"That," Jones interjected, "Was the first data dumped to the system. The watch doesn't stream audio in standby mode. It records it and then flash transmits it to the server via wireless data stream."

"Can't we track that?" Rice asked. "Triangulate Neal's location?"

Diana sighed. "If we'd remembered the watch back when it was still sending information it might have been possible but it hasn't sent a data stream in four days. The technicians say that three days is in keeping with the battery life of one of the devices. If it's power source is dead, there's no way to track it."

"Too bad nobody thought of it when it actually would have been useful." The Marshall muttered.

Peter glared at him until he lowered his eyes.

"The watch sent audio for three days. Somewhere in all that audio there will be a clue as to Caffrey's whereabouts. We just have to find it." Peter hoped he was projecting more confidence than he felt. "Jones, play the next file."

Peter listened as Neal regained consciousness. He suppressed a smile as Neal defended his new team to what appeared to be his old one. As the recordings continued, Peter grew more and more concerned and ashamed. It seemed that Donaghey and company routinely visited Neal and each time argued, quite well, that Neal wasn't truly a member of Peter's team. That Neal would never be considered Peter's equal and thus, never a true friend.

As the agents on his team listened to the conversations their eyes often met his. Sometimes indignant, Peter liked those looks. But sometimes questioning, as if they too wondered exactly where Neal fell in the grand scheme of things. Those questioning looks more than anything gave Peter pause.

If the members of his team were unsure as to whether Neal was a 'real' teammate, how sure could Neal really be? How long would Neal remain convinced that he was doing the right thing working with Peter?

Peter noted that the character Donaghey was quite determined to change Neal's mind. The sour voiced Sam remained unabashedly antagonistic and scornful of Neal and the girl, Ariel seemed to be deferential to Donaghey, frightened of Sam and devoted to Neal. However, not once did any of the conversation let slip any hint of the gang's location. There were no trains or boats in the background. No restaurant names dropped into the conversation. Nothing. Then finally the recordings ended in the middle of another one of Neal's group interventions.

"That's it." Jones surmised. "The watch died. We didn't get anything more."

Peter sighed, rubbed his eyes and glanced at his watch. Diana had slid it across the table about an hour into the listening party. It was 7:45 in the morning.

"Okay, what do we know?" Peter said. "Neal was snatched by a group of his former associates who are trying to do a reverse rehabilitation. We've got three names; two first names and one last name. I want someone running those names ASAP."

"I got that boss." Jones said and, grabbing his things exited the conference room.

"And Jones," Peter called after him. "I want you to run them as a group but also the last name seperately. It might be worth running the name Ariel separately focusing on white collar crimes but I wouldn't bother with Sam unless it's tied to at least one of the other two."

"Got it." Jones said from the door and was gone.

"Okay," Peter announced. "Everyone else, I want us to focus on Neal's files. I want everything we've got on his past going as far back as you can. See if any of those names pop up."

"Sure thing, Boss." Diana replied. "What are you going to be doing?"

"Something distasteful." Peter sighed.

Diana looked a question.

"I've got an … unusual source I can exploit."

Diana nodded knowingly. "Better you than me."

Peter thought of the task of setting up a meeting with Mozzie much less trying to get him to divulge information about Neal's past and the second wind from last night suddenly left him.

He rubbed his eyes but grabbed his coat and headed for the door.

"I need some coffee."


	5. We Are Family

Donaghey was looking at Neal expectantly, waiting for an answer to a question it was becoming apparent the boy hadn't even registered.

"I'm sorry, Donaghey." Neal apologized. "What did you say?"

"I asked if you were okay, boy?" Donaghey frowned kindly. "You sure you're ready for this?"

Neal smiled. "Are you kidding? I've been cooped up in that room for five months and out of the game for almost five years. I'm dying to get back in."

Donaghey's glance remained skeptical.

"Okay," Neal confessed. "I'm a little nervous about being on the other side again. I know what the other side is capable of now."

"But that's good, Neal." Donaghey chuckled. "That's an asset you never had before. Remember your training? If you wanted to do an art job, how did you prepare?"

Neal's response was immediate. "I studied the art houses, the personnel, examined their security…"

"Their reactions to different scenarios, response times…" Donaghey continued. "You'd basically become a student of that profession. Well, Neal. You've hit the criminal jackpot. You served an apprenticeship with the FBI."

Neal flashed a quick grin. "I guess I never thought of it like that."

"This is touching, really it is, but can we get back to planning this heist now." Sam interjected sourly. "I'd like to rob the bank before inflation sets in."

Donaghey shook his head as Sam and Neal began to argue again over the best approach. Sam wanted to disable the security system while Neal was adamant in his belief that it was an unnecessary step and risk when it could be so easily circumvented.

Donaghey was truly disappointed that Sam had instantly reverted to his old ways once Neal had rejoined their little family. Sam had been 19 and with Donaghey for almost 5 years when they'd happened upon Neal running a simple Newspaper scam in Central Park. Donaghey had taken an instant liking to the boy and Sam had loathed him instantly.

It wasn't Sam's fault really. Though neither of the boys had ever spoken of their lives before Donaghey found them, there was evidence that both had suffered. Neal's suffering seemed to have made him deeply empathic to others. It was what made him a great con artist. Neal instinctively knew what motivated others, what they felt and desired.

Sam had reacted to his abuse with callousness. As far as Donaghey could tell Sam blamed himself for the bad things that had happened to him. He had been a victim because he had not protected himself. That was his responsibility and no one else's. The flip side of that belief was that Sam believed it was your responsibility to take care of yourself. If his actions in pursuit of his needs wounded you, it was your fault not his, because it had been your responsibility to stop him.

That was why Sam would never be half the con artist Neal was. It was also why Donaghey would never be able to love Sam in the same way he loved Neal and Ariel.

Donaghey looked at the slight red head and smiled. Ariel was hopeless. All of Neal's empathy and none of his cunning. She was clever though and an excellent resource in a supportive capacity. She wasn't a front runner like Kate, though.

Donaghey could feel his face harden at the thought of Kate. When Neal had gone in for his four years, Donaghey had contacted Kate and offered up her old place on the team but she'd turned him down. He'd grown more and more worried about the company she'd been keeping but whenever he'd contacted her, she'd brushed off his concerns. Eventually, she'd become angry at him. She said she was tired of him pressuring her to come back to the team and that that part of her life was over.

Donaghey had to admit it, it'd made him angry. He'd decided that Kate would just have to learn the hard way. He'd worried about her getting into serious trouble but he'd always imagined it to be some manageable situation and then he'd be able to ride in and save the day. Kate would be grateful and come back to the team and Neal, of course, would follow Kate wherever and, Voila! The family would be back together again.

But that isn't what happened. Kate was dead and Donaghey should have done something about it. He glanced over at Sam and Neal, bickering as always, with Ariel curled up in the corner ignoring them and reading a security system manual. His kids. He hadn't saved Kate but he had saved Neal. Everyone was back where they belonged, where he could keep them safe.

"Alright, alright." Donaghey shouted as the boys' argument escalated. "I'll settle this. Neal's right. Disabling the security for the entire bank is an unnecessary risk as long as the cameras are disabled. We can be in and out well under the fastest response time, especially if we cut out the time spent disabling the main system."

"No, no, no!" Sam said. "It's an unacceptable risk."

"Look," Donaghey conceded. "I'll have Ariel monitor the system. She'll be able to let us know the instant anything is amiss and we can make a run for it, if need be without the take. Deal?"

Neal 's grin was a little cheeky as he fairly sang, "I'm happy."

Sam scowled, "Fine."

Donaghey turned to Ariel's corner, "Ariel?"

"Whatever." She said without looking up from her book.

"Then everything's settled. We'll pull the job tomorrow night." Donaghey rubbed his hands together. "Who's hungry?"

* * *

Neal and Sam had made their entry into the bank via a basement access. It was usually the easiest access point. Neal noted that Sam had watched over his shoulder as Neal cut the wires to the security cameras. Sam had made no secret of his distrust of Neal every step of the way. Neal had been worried at first that Sam actually saw through his feigned criminal rehabilitation but no, it was just Sam's dislike for him.

Once Sam had satisfied himself that Neal had disabled the cameras he removed his mask and moved on. Neal then discreetly reached back into the box with one had without looking. He expertly located the cut wires he'd partially stripped with his fingernails and reconnected them. Then, looking straight at the nearest camera he slowly and deliberately took his mask off.

_Here's my flare, Peter. _Neal thought to himself. _I really hope you see it._


	6. Seek and Ye Shall Find

Peter watched as Max Gehen, a corporate embezzler desperately tried to deny the confession he'd just inadvertently made on tape to an undercover Diana.

"This isn't legal!" The bespeckled man shouted. "This is entrapment! I didn't know she was a cop."

Peter's mind suddenly supplied a dialogue from Neal. "She isn't a cop. She's a federal agent and there's no way that sting could be misconstrued as entrapment. This is amateur hour, unworthy of my time."

Neal. It had been almost five months since the night they'd reviewed the tape from Neal's watch and Neal was still a ghost.

_If Neal's a ghost._ Peter thought sadly. _He's haunting me._

Jones smiled as he led the handcuffed Gehen to a waiting black sedan. Peter tried to shake off the foul mood thinking of Neal had brought. After five weeks of no leads and no prospects he'd been taken off the case and the US Marshalls had officially taken over. Peter had asked for updates and thought they'd been stonewalling him at first but soon realized that wasn't the case. It was simply that there were no updates.

There were no clues, no hints, nothing. Neal Caffrey had vanished like a morning fog.

Peter had continued an unofficial investigation with Mozzie for months after the Marshalls took over but even Mozzie hadn't contacted him in over two weeks. There was nothing to say.

"Hey, Boss." Diana called. "You okay?"

"Fine!" Peter called and held up a hand.

"Yeah, I'm just dandy." He muttered under his breath and then headed for his car.

Peter wasn't surprised to see Special Agent in Charge Reese enter his office. Gehen had been a pretty decent collar. It was unusual but not out of the question for Reese to offer a congratulations…but Reese didn't look like he came bearing good news.

"You have a minute?" He asked and Peter gestured to one of the empty seats opposite his desk.

"Of course," Peter answered. "This have to do with Gehen?"

"Uh no." Reese frowned. "It has to do with Caffrey, Peter. I'm sorry but, well, it's not good news."

Peter felt his stomach flutter a bit but found he couldn't answer.

"Someone matching Caffrey's description was identified in a failed bank robbery attempt."

Peter was genuinely shocked.

"I'm sorry, Peter. I know it's not the ending you wanted but it looks like Caffrey's back on the other side of the law."

Peter still couldn't think of anything to say but mumbled something like thank you and after a long silence Reese got up to leave. At the doorway, he paused.

"You did everything you could for that kid, Peter. You gave him every chance. This isn't your fault."

Peter simply nodded and Reese took a step forward but stopped short when Peter called, "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"I'd like to run point on this bank robbery."

Reese seemed to consider that for a moment.

"As I understand it, the evidence is a slam dunk against him; prints, DNA and even video footage but he is in the wind." Reese considered. "And you're the only person to have ever caught him."

"Twice." Peter reminded him.

Reese smiled. "Twice." He paused for another moment then seemed to come to a decision. "Okay, Peter. It's your show."

"Thank you, sir." Peter said with true gratitude. He quickly called a team meeting but it seemed Jones and Diana were a bit ahead of him.

"We pulled the surveillance footage while you were still talking to Reese." Diana apologized.

"How did you know?" Peter asked.

"Word travels fast in the pit." Jones explained. "But you need to see this."

Peter was amazed to see that both Diana and Jones seemed to be excited.

"What? What is it?" He asked, feeling impatient.

"We think Neal botched the robbery on purpose." Diana blurted.

"Well, with prints, DNA and video footage left behind I certainly hope he was acting deliberately." Peter said with a grin.

"That's the good news." Jones said soberly.

That caught Peter's attention.

"What's the bad news?"

Jones and Diana exchanged glances.

"C'mon guys, what is it?"

"That DNA evidence?" Jones began and then paused as though searching for the right words.

"Yes?" Peter asked anxiously.

"It was blood."

* * *

After reviewing the surveillance video Peter agreed with his junior agents on both issues. Neal had definitely made two obvious mistakes. He'd short circuited the video but only momentarily and he'd tripped an alarm. And several times he'd looked directly at the cameras he should have assumed weren't working.

"He's sending smoke signals." Peter murmured.

As he watched, the two thieves in the video went about their business until a third, much smaller thief joined them. It became clear that the new player was making them aware of the tripped alarm. The man with Neal; a tall, thin and balding man seemed to be shouting. He pulled a weapon from his bag and shot Neal who spun a full 360 degrees before falling to the grown. Peter flinched at the silent scream caught on tape.

It never ceased to amaze him the perception people seemed to have that being shot somehow didn't hurt. People were shot on film all the time, often with little to no reaction and the public just accepted it, especially if it was 'just in the arm' or 'just in the leg'. However, if you showed a person being stabbed people expected more of a reaction. It didn't make sense.

Neal appeared to have been hit in the right arm and it had been the force of the shot that had spun him around so unceremoniously. As he screamed the small thief rushed toward the shooter and slapped the weapon down just as the shooter fired off another round.

Peter kept his face carefully blank but a thin sheen of sweat broke out on his brow as the second shot embedded itself into the bank floor inches from Neal's torso. The balding man viciously struck her with the butt of the gun. After she was down, he raised the gun for a third shot and Peter's teeth clinched.

But after what seemed an eternity, a very large man entered and grabbed the gun from the balding man. They argued for a few seconds before the large man seemed to dismiss the smaller. He helped the girl to her feet and then picked up the now unconscious Neal, swinging the slight man easily over his shoulder.

Within seconds all four thieves were off camera.

Peter tried to process what he'd seen. Neal was alive. Neal hadn't gone crooked. Neal was in trouble. As happy as he was to finally know for certain Neal was alive, Peter was angry and scared.

"So," he said at last. "Neal is still with his old gang. It's probably safe to assume he convinced them he was back on their side long enough to run a heist with them with the intention of signaling us. But he didn't see the gun coming and now he's in even more trouble."

Peter paced for a minute, trying to think.

"What do we have here that we didn't have before?" He asked aloud. "We have pictures of his captors. Pull photos from this footage and try to pull all traffic footage in the area. We'll see if we can find a traffic cam trail back to where they're holding Neal."

Diana and Jones nodded.

"Get every available agent on that." Peter continued. "Neal's shown his hand and he's probably in a lot of trouble. Guys," Diana and Jones had been bustling out of the office but paused solemnly, "we've got to find him this time."

"Don't worry, Boss." Jones said with a forceful nod. "We will."

Peter nodded. "I'm heading down to the crime scene. See if maybe Neal left a breadcrumb or two."

* * *

Peter arrived at the First Fidelity and Trust branch and ducked under the police tape, flashing his badge to the uniformed officer who approached him saying, "Special Agent Burke, FBI. I've been appointed lead investigator on this case."

The uniformed officer looked bored and simply waved Peter forward.

Peter entered the branch and looked for someone who might be in charge. His eyes fell on a plain clothes detective who seemed promising and he approached him with his badge out.

He introduced himself. "Special Agent Burke, FBI."

"Detective Cross, NYPD." The detective said with a proffered hand that Peter eagerly shook.

"What brings the FBI to my crime scene." The detective asked amiably.

"It's been connected to a missing persons case I've been working on. The Bureau has jurisdiction and I've been assigned lead due to that connection."

The detective shrugged. "It's a better reason than most you Feds give." He gestured around. "It's an odd set up. On the one hand, these guys come across like pros. They knew right where to gain entry, exactly where and how to disable security measures, and they knew just what they were looking for."

"Basement entry?" Peter asked.

"Um," The detective checked his notes. "Yeah, it was a basement entry. How'd you know?"

"I know one of the players and he likes basements." Peter replied.

"Okay. So, the plan is good but this one guy, he seems determined to foul things up. Like I said, they knew exactly how and where to disable the cameras. Pretty boy, that's what we're calling him, pretty boy goes to the box with his mask on and the feed goes dead but next thing you know its back up and there's pretty boy staring right at the cameras." The detective shook his head. "He damn near winked at 'em."

Peter nodded.

"Uh, Agent Beard was it?"

"Burke." Peter's reply was brisk. He'd just spotted a distressingly substantial pool of blood in the place he'd seen Neal go down in the surveillance footage.

"Yeah, Burke." The detective took a step toward him. "I don't have any hard and fast evidence of this but it just feels wrong. I can't prove it but I'll be damned if pretty boy didn't botch this thing on purpose."

Peter shook his head. "You're instincts aren't off detective. His name's Neal Caffrey. He was a member of my team until he was kidnapped five months ago. He's a reformed thief who's been serving out his remaining time working on my team as a consultant, and he was a damn good one too. We have evidence that players from his former life took him under duress to get him back on the crooked path, so to speak. This is the first break in the case we've had almost since Neal went missing."

The detective smiled. "See, that's why I'm a cop. I don't even want to think about all that crazy stuff you Feds get yourselves into." He shook his head. "Well, from what I've seen here it looks like you're boy's still on the straight and narrow."

Peter's momentary smile slipped away at the detective's next statement.

"His friends aren't gonna be happy with him Agent. I hope you find him."

He looked pointedly at the pool of blood and added.

"Fast."


	7. A Shot in the Dark

Donaghey pulled the tourniquet tighter and Neal gasped.

"I wasn't…" Neal caught his breath. "I wasn't setting you up, Donaghey. I just wanted to leave a .. leave a message for .. for Peter. I .. I was going to arrange a .. a meeting to come back in."

Donaghey said nothing but just continued to bandage Neal's arm. As he made another adjustment to the bandage Neal couldn't suppress a scream and Donaghey carefully examined the area that had caused him to cry out.

"What I was worried about." Donaghey muttered.

"What?" Neal gasped. "What is it?"

Donaghey shook his head. "Bullet's still in your arm, Neal. Rotten luck. We'll need to get you a doctor and get it out."

Neal reached out to grab Donaghey's arm with his good hand but Donaghey shushed and gently disengaged him.

"Be still, Neal." He said. "You jostle that too much and you could go into shock. It's almost morning. You lay easy while I find a sawbones to work on you."

"You believe me, right?" Neal pleaded. "I wasn't giving you up Donaghey. I promise."

Donaghey looked at the young man's ashen face and hesitated only a moment.

"I believe you, boy." He sighed and sat down next to Neal's cot. "You really think your FBI man'll take you back? He's really a friend?"

"I trust him, Donaghey. I really do."

Donaghey considered a few moments more.

"Alright." He muttered. "Okay, I guess … I guess I gotta let you make your own decisions. Even if …."

He didn't finish the sentence and after a moment Neal said, "Thanks, Donaghey. Not just for this, but, for everything you've done for me. Everything you did for Kate.

"You be careful, Neal." Donaghey pleaded. "You promise me you'll be careful out there?"

"I promise."

Donaghey climbed to his feet. "I'll let the others know you're leaving. We'll drop you at an emergency room. It shouldn't take long for the FBI to find you. But if they want to send you back or even if you just change your mine, you call me and we'll come spring you, you hear?"

Neal tried to grin but it came out as more of a grimace. "I will, Donaghey. Promise."

"Rest, son. I'll come back for you in a minute."

* * *

"You're what?"

_Sam sounded angry. But, then again, Sam always sounded angry these days._ Ariel thought.

She had squeezed behind the couch in Donaghey's office. It was something she'd started doing when he'd first found her. For some reason the tightness of the space made her feel safe and she'd never given up the habit. When Donaghey had angrily ordered her to leave him alone with Neal this is where she'd come. Sam and Donaghey had entered later, yelling angrily at each other so Ariel decided to stay put.

"I said, I'm letting Neal go. I gave him what pain killers we've got. They're not strong but it's better than nothing. When they've had a chance to set in, we'll load him into the burn car and drop him at the nearest ER." As Donaghey said this he sat behind his desk and started rubbing his eyes.

"All this crap? Nabbing him, the damn therapy sessions and you're just gonna let him go?" Sam screeched.

"I made a mistake." Donaghey sighed.

"Yeah, you made a mistake when you didn't let me finish that little rat off at the bank."

Donaghey frowned.

"What the truth hurt?" Sam sneered. "You're golden boy ain't so special Donaghey. He's a turncoat and a rat who was ready to serve up his whole family!"

"Ah, so now we're a family again?" Donaghey smiled.

"Don't you LAUGH AT ME!" Sam screamed and pulled out the pistol with which he'd shot Neal. Ariel bit her lip.

"What are you going to do, Sam?" Donaghey mocked. "Are you going to shoot me?"

"Maybe." Sam barked.

Donaghey shook his head. "Sam, Sam. Put that thing away."

"You've lost your touch old man. You've gone soft. You're OLD!" Sam screamed.

"Sam," Donaghey sounded nervous now. "Calm down, son."

"I'm not your son!" Sam yelled.

"Sam, you know you're all my kids. We're a family by choice remember?"

"But you'd always choose him. Wouldn't you? I'd always be the second choice." Sam laughed. "I don't believe it. Even after this! After he tripped an alarm on purpose and was ready to serve us all up on a silver platter STILL St. Neal can do no wrong in your eyes. Why? Why was I never good enough for you?"

"Sam," Donaghey started but Sam wouldn't let him finish.

"No, it's over. This" Sam gestured wildely to the room with his pistol. "This whole façade you created, it's over. We were never a family. We were a crew." He cocked the hammer back. "And this crew's under new management."

He pulled the trigger.

Ariel shrank back from the crack through which she'd been peeking, jamming her fist into her mouth trying desperately not to scream.

She heard a crash as Donaghey fell out of his chair onto the floor and then a long silence. Finally, she heard Sam's footsteps leaving the room and peeked out from her hiding place again.

Donaghey's large frame was splayed on the floor near his desk and as Ariel watched a crimson pool slowly expanded in her direction. She cautiously climbed out of her hiding place and approached the body.

Her breath was coming is short gasps, her eyes and her head hurt. She could still hear the shot echoing in her ears and the smell of gunpowder in the small room was overwhelming.

She knelt next to the body and leaned forward then almost screamed when Donaghey's eyes opened.

"Ari-elly." He gasped.

Tears spilled from her eyes and she held her hand fast over her mouth to keep from screaming.

"My Ari-elly empty belly." Donaghey sighed.

"It's me." She sobbed. "What do I do? Tell me what to do?"

"I love you, Elly."

Ariel shook her head furiously. "No. No! Donaghey, please! What do I do? I'll do it. I can do this. Tell me what to do. I'll fix you, please."

He started choking and coughed laboriously.

"Donaghey!" Ariel lifted his head and upper body into her lap which seemed to help. He tried to talk again but she shushed him, suddenly afraid of what he would say.

"It's okay." She breathed and rocked him gently.

"It's okay. It's okay. You're gonna be okay." She cried.

"Love you, Elly." Donaghey choked then his eyes rolled back, she heard a sickening gurgle like sound and he was still.

"Donaghey?" She cried though she knew it was too late. "No. No."

She shook her head forcefully, tears splashing onto the floor. "No, please. Please! Donaghey! Please don't leave. Please!"

There was no answer.

Neal and Kate had found Ariel in an alley into which they'd ducked after lifting wallets. They were still kids, maybe 14 or 15. She'd been roughly six or seven and half dead with hunger. That's how she'd gotten her name. They'd taken her back here to Donaghey. They'd fed her and made her feel safe. After three days when she finally spoke she'd said, "Wanna see me do a trick?"

They'd all encouraged her and she'd partially lifted her shirt revealing her emaciated abdomen. Then she'd sucked in her non-existent gut. It receded so far, her spine was faintly visible. When she'd released the breath she'd triumphantly cried, "I can see my back from my front!"

She remembered how upset she'd been that they didn't seem impressed. But then Donaghey had come up to her with tears in his eyes. He'd scooped her up and just held her close and safe. Kate had tearfully joined them, Donaghey opening his left arm up to include her in the embrace. Neal hadn't joined the hug. He'd hovered outside a few moments then placed a protective hand on Ariel's shoulder. She'd glanced up at him and, with a wink, he'd stolen her nose. The group dissolved into laughter and Donaghey had reached out, ruffled Neal's hair and squeezed him into the group hug. That moment was a perfect moment in Ariel's memory. It was the first time she could remember feeling like everything might be alright.

Kate was gone. Donaghey was gone. Neal was hurt.

She had to do something. What should she do? Who could she trust?

It went against everything she'd ever been taught but Ariel pulled out her cell phone and dialed 411.

"City and State, please." The operator droned.

"New York, New York."

"What listing?"

"Um, I need to talk to Agent Peter Burke at the FBI."


	8. Everything's Not Lost

The operator had given Ariel the name and address of the Federal Building. Ariel had called the switchboard and gotten voicemail. She decided against leaving a message after the beep. Instead she called information again and asked for the residential address of Peter Burke.

There were three.

Ariel almost despaired until she remembered Neal talking about 'Peter's' wife. He'd mentioned that her nickname was El, similar to Ariel's nickname Elly. What was El short for again? Elizabeth!

"Operator, one of the addresses, is it for Peter and Elizabeth?"

"Yes, please hold for the number and address."

Ariel grabbed a pad and scribbled the information then froze as she heard footsteps in the hall.

"Ariel?" Sam called. "Ariel, where are you?"

Shaking, Ariel ripped off the sheet of notebook paper and slid back into her hiding place behind the couch. If she'd have been trying to hide from Donaghey, Kate or Neal it wouldn't have worked but Sam had never paid attention to her or her habits and knew nothing about her special spot.

She listened to him checking the rooms along the hall. Finally, he reached the office and stepped inside hesitantly. Ariel bit her lip as she realized she'd left evidence of her presence everywhere, footprints in the blood, a small bloody handprint on Donaghey's sleeve. Sam noticed as well.

"Damn it." He sighed and turned briskly from the room. "Ariel? It's okay. Let me explain. It was an accident, Ariel. I didn't mean to do it. I'm sorry."

Ariel was shaking so hard she feared the couch might move and give her away.

"Ariel?" Sam's voice sounded desperate as he moved quickly back down the hall. "Ariel, I'm sorry. I won't hurt you I swear. Just come out!"

There was a long pause then Ariel couldn't suppress a whimper as Sam angrily screamed, "Ariel!"

She clamped her hands firmly over her mouth and concentrated on nothing other than being still.

Sam spent hours searching for her but luckily avoided the office, either because he assumed she wouldn't hide in the room with the body or because he didn't care to look to closely at what he'd done. Finally, Ariel had a chance to make a break for her room. Donaghey hated windows and usually bricked them over. He called them security holes and unnecessary in the age of air conditioning. But, after much begging, pleading and lip biting he'd let her keep the one in her room.

She suddenly realized that windows weren't just access points for people wanting to hurt her but escape hatches. Donaghey hadn't known everything, she mused. Or maybe it was just that it had never occurred to Donaghey to think that danger might come from within their little family.

When she dropped to the street she set off at a run. Their safe house was in the warehouse district and she needed to get to car or a cab. She suddenly realized her hands and arms were splattered and smeared with blood and she stopped to rub as much as possible onto her jeans. Fortunately, the blood only showed up as a dark blotch on the dark blue fabric.

She ran flat out for ten blocks and was only moderately breathless when she hailed the first cab she'd seen. Donaghey had always said, if there was one sport all thieves should pursue it was running. The thought of Donaghey stole her breath more effectively than the run and she choked on her first attempt at the address of Peter's FBI agent but soon the cab was shooting down the street toward what Ariel hoped was help.

* * *

Neal tried to stay still. It seemed even the slightest movement brought a wave of pain emanating from his arm and extending to his whole body, turning his stomach. Donaghey had given him something but it had barely taken the edge off. Neal's instinct was to move. To get up and pace, walk it off, but he had to be still.

He concentrated on taking long deep breaths and wished he could somehow sleep. He was exhausted. After what seemed an eternity a noise startled him and he turned carefully to the door calling, "Donaghey?"

But it wasn't Donaghey standing in the doorwary, it was Sam. Sam's eyes were red rimmed and wild but he was eerily still. In one hand he held a bottle of Scotch. In the other he held his pistol.

"Sam, where's Donaghey?" Neal asked quietly.

"I didn't mean to." Sam breathed. "I don't know what happened. I was just so, so angry at him."

Neal's stomach fluttered uneasily. "What do you mean?"

Sam made no answer.

"Sam," Neal's voice grew hard. "What did you do?"

"It's your fault!" Sam screamed, advancing into the room. Neal instinctively shrank back and yelped unceremoniously as the movement sent fire running through his veins.

"Why'd you have to come back? Everything was fine with you gone! Why'd he have to bring you back?" Sam ranted. "I didn't think… I don't know what I…"

Sam placed his back against the wall and sank to the floor sobbing. "What did I do?"

After what seemed like an eternity Sam spoke again.

"Ariel's gone." He stated flatly and took a long pull from the bottle. "She left. She left me."

"Oh." Neal tried to hide his relief. He had been afraid Sam might have hurt her too. "You killed Donaghey." Neal said at last. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah." Sam's voice remained flat and emotionless.

"Are you going to shoot me, Sam?" Neal sighed, suddenly exhausted. "Cuz if you are, I think I'd rather you just get it over with."

Sam looked blankly at Neal. "I already shot you Neal."

He stoodup, slowly walked to where Neal lay helpless and, looking Neal straight in the eyes ripped Donaghey's careful bandage off.

The he walked calmly back to his previous spot against the wall, sank down and said, "You just haven't died yet."

* * *

Elizabeth sat alone at the breakfast table. Peter had been out all night on a case. A cold wet nose bumped her elbow as the puppy offered comfort. "At least I have you." She laughed, scratching him above his right leg in his 'special spot'.

His ears perked moments before she heard the knock on the door and Elizabeth frowned, curious who would be dropping by at 6 in the morning. Elizabeth grabbed her phone and dialed 911 then approached the door with her thumb resting lightly on the send button.

"Who is it?" She called warily.

"Um, I'm looking for Agent Burke?"

Elizabeth relaxed slightly when she heard the young, femanine voice. She pulled back the curtain on the door and confirmed her suspcion that the caller was a young girl.

_Correction:_ Elizabeth thought with a slight frown. _A young frightened girl._

Elizabeth opened the door. "I'm sorry. Peter's out right this minute. Have you tried his cell?"

"I, uh," the girl seemed on the brink of tears. "I didn't have it. Are you his wife? You're El?"

Elizabeth blinked at the use of her nickname. "Yeah, how do you know Peter?"

"Um, I don't actually. It's just that he said that Peter, over and over he said that he could trust him and he's in trouble so I need him to come help." she gushed.

Elizabeth gestured for the girl to come into the house and quickly had her sitting on the living room couch.

"Okay, Sweetie, let's try that again but this time with more names and fewer pronouns. Let's start with your name" Elizabeth smiled.

"Ariel." The girl sniffed. "My name's Ariel."

"Okay, that's better. Ariel, Who said you could trust Peter?" Elizabeth coaxed.

Ariel's answer fulfilled Elizabeth's barely formulated hope. "Neal."

"You know where Neal is?"

"Yes."

Elizabeth exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "That's great!" She cried. "Oh that's so great. How is he? Where is he? Is he okay?"

Ariel bit her lip. "No, he's .. Sam .. it's a long story but we need to get some help. I need to talk to Peter Burke. Neal said he could trust him."

Elizabeth was already dialing Peter's number.

"Don't worry, honey." she said firmly. "If anyone can make this right, it's Peter."


	9. So I Thought

**Normally this would be part of a larger chapter but I'm pressed for time. So, I'm posting this part and will finish and post the rest hopefully tonight. Just FYI.**

* * *

Neal was getting uncomfortably comfortable. The white heat of the pain was receding in his body but every inch of territory the pain reluctantly conceded was claimed by a numbing cold. Neal knew that he should be bothered by this but the relief from the pain was too great.

"Hey, Neal." Sam slurred. "Wherzzh yurr FBI feindzuh?"

Neal didn't answer.

"Huh? Golden boy?" Sam barked and then giggled. "Golden boy. Thassfunny cuz yurr not enin blond."

Neal watched him try to take a drink from the empty bottle … again.

"Hey! Hey, Neal!" Sam stage whispered while suppressing a drunken giggle. "What's that?"

Sam made an exaggerated movement as though listening to some strange sound.

"You hear that, Neal?" Sam asked again. "You know what that is? It's the FBI NOT cominna get you!" Sam dissolved into giggles, obviously under the impression that he was a comedic genius.

"You talked real big, didnya?" He slurred and then puffing out his chest continued in what Neal supposed was an imitation of himself. "I'm on a new team. Peter trusses me. I trusss Peter."

Neal closed his eyes, the only thing he could manage to do to show Sam his contempt.

"Peter, Peter, Peter." Sam said then chuckled. "Thassa funny name. Peter, Peter, Peter."

He tried again to drink from the empty bottle and then angrily threw it away.

"Wherz Peter, huh Neal? You're dyin Neal! And you know what? Nobody carz."

Neal didn't bother to respond. Sam couldn't possible understand a guy like Peter. _Neal_ barely understood Peter.

At first, all Neal had understood was that Peter's actions were predictable. He knew that Peter acted in a reliable way and Neal trusted Peter to react to situations in that reliable way.

That was only in the beginning. No, Neal hadn't understood Peter at first, not like he did other people. He knew what Peter would do but not why. It had taken Neal a while to figure out that Peter had integrity. It sounded so simple but integrity had up to that time been a myth to Neal. It was a lofty ideal that lots of people talked about, few sought and as far as Neal was concerned, none maintained. But that was Peter. Peter not only held himself to a high standard but that standard was part of how Peter saw himself.

Peter didn't just track criminals down or uphold the law, Peter _was_ an FBI Agent. When Neal had finally understood that, he also understood that Peter was someone he could trust completely when he said he was Neal's friend. He wasn't just someone who's actions Neal could predict or who could be depended upon in pursuit of the same goal but someone who Neal could truly trust.

Neal could try explaining something like that to Sam but he'd be wasting his breath and he had precious little of that to spare.

A faint snore coming from Sam's general direction prompted Neal to open his suddenly heavy eyelids. Sam had passed out.

_This is it?_ Neal thought with a strange sense of detachment. _This is the last thing I'm going to see? Sam getting sloppy drunk in a windowless room? _

Neal rejected the thought and closed his eyes again. He filled his mind with faces, concentrating on the details. Peter, Elizabeth, Mozzie, Alex, Donaghey, Ariel, even Jones and Diana were there, and of course Kate. Neal found himself smiling and despite the shiver that ran through his body he felt loved and warm as the pain continued to slip away.


	10. You Found Me

"Agent Caffrey. Agent Caffrey. Can you hear me, Agent Caffrey?"

A voice was calling him but something was wrong. Neal couldn't figure it out.

"Where's the EMTs?" someone yelled. "Agent Caffrey, hold on okay. Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?"

Neal thought about it but he felt good right now, safe. Some instinct told him that if he opened his eyes the pain would come back and he thought it would be better to let himself stay here where it was quiet.

"Where is he?"

Neal knew that voice. He couldn't place it. It was bothering him.

"Ah, crap." The voice seemed angry. That felt familiar. Anger seemed to fit the voice. "How is he?"

"I don't know, sir. I'm just trying to apply pressure to the wound until the EMT's get here."

"He looks like hell. How long are they gonna be?" Now the voice sounded worried. That also seemed to fit.

"They should be here any second now that the scene's...

"What have we got?" Another voice broke in.

"Not sure." Said the first voice. "He was lying here bleeding when I came in. I applied pressure to the wound and waited for you guys to show."

There was a momentary pause and then, "His blood pressure's bottoming out. Gary, finish that IV and squeeze as much as you can in. Let's get him in the truck."

"What's going on? Is he gonna be okay?" The familiar voice again.

"Who're you?"

"I'm his team leader." The familiar voice sounded upset. "Now what's his status?"

"Keep up and I'll tell you. Looks like a bad gun shot wound. The arm's broken and there's no exit wound. From that puddle he's been bleeding for a while, not too much flow but his blood pressure's low."

"Uh huh, okay, so is he gonna make it?"

Neal was quite interested in the answer to that questions and felt like he should say or do something but couldn't quite connect himself to what was going on.

"Okay, Gary on three. One – Two – Three."

"Diana, take over. I'm riding with Neal to the hospital."

* * *

A sound was bothering Neal. It was an annoying beeping sound. As he listened it seemed to be slowing down. He found himself wishing it would stop.

"Damnit. Got to get more volume."

"Neal!" The familiar voice suddenly seemed disconcertingly close. "Don't you dare think of skipping out on me, Caffrey. I swear, I don't care where you try to hide I will hunt you down, even if I have to chase you to the gates of hell itself. And I'm telling you if you make me chase you I will be VERY pissed. So, You. Stay. Put."

Neal tried. He somehow knew the person wasn't someone you messed with but he couldn't seem to hold on. Everything was moving all around him, fluid, he couldn't plant his feet. Sounds faded until he couldn't hear the voice's threats and even the annoying beeping stopped.

* * *

"No." Peter breathed as the heart monitor droned out a monotone.

"Sir, MOVE!" The EMT shouted and started administering chest compressions.

"Sir… SIR!" The EMT yelled. Peter shook himself and tore his gaze away from Neal's gray features. The EMT was gesturing at the balloon like thing attached to the tube he'd forced down Neal's throat.

"I need you to take hold of that black thing there, sir, and when I say 'Squeeze' you squeeze all the air out. Understand?"

Peter nodded.

"Did you understand me, sir?" The EMT asked again and Peter realized he couldn't have seen Peter's nod.

"Yes." Peter croaked, his throat dry. "Yes, I got it." He focused on holding the little black balloon.

"Squeeze." The EMT yelled, and Peter squeezed the air out.

_Baby's black balloon makes her fly_ Peter thought stupidly. He noticed that one of Neal's eyes was cracked slightly open and wanted to reach out and shut it. He almost did but then it hit him what shutting a person's eyes for them signified and recoiled from the thought.

"Squeeze!" The EMT yelled again.

How much longer? How many more minutes till they reached the ER? Would they fix Neal?

As if to answer his question the ambulance slowed and tilted as the vehicle made a sharp turn. The doors opened and suddenly there were people everywhere. In seconds Neal was gone and Peter was climbing awkwardly out of the ambulance trying to follow.

Someone tried to stop him and Peter pulled out his FBI badge.

"My name is Special Agent Peter Burke and I have to stay with that man."

"I'm sorry Agent Burke, you're gonna have to give the doctors some space." It amazed Peter that a man in pink scrubs could still radiate an air of authority to rival his own.

"I understand that." Peter nodded. "And I assure you, I will stay out of their way but I need to stay with that man."

"Sir, if he's a witness or something he's not going to be able to talk to you until he's had time to recover…"

Peter interrupted him. "He's not a witness. He's a member of my team."

Peter wasn't sure what it was but he felt a moment of pure, wordless communication pass between him and the man in pink.

"Okay, just a minute. I'll see if I can get you nearby but if you even look like you're going to get in the way of the medical staff, I'll have security remove you from the premises. Understood?"

"I got it." Peter said with a relieved smile.

"Okay," The man in pink eyed Peter suspiciously and looked as if he regretted his decision. "Wait here a minute. I'll be right back."

Peter rested his hands on his hips for a moment and his head fell forward of its own accord.

"Special Agent Peter Burke of the FBI." A voice said, jolting him back into the moment.

Peter looked up to see the detective from the bank crime seen earlier that morning.

"Oh, um," Peter couldn't remember his name. "Detective..? I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name."

The detective smiled. "Ah, doesn't really matter. Chances are we'll never see each other again. I heard you found your pretty boy."

"Yeah, he's uh, he's…the doctor's are working on him."

The detective sighed. "That's rough man. Hey, I hope he makes it."

"If he doesn't, I'll kick his ass." Peter grunted.

* * *

Neal felt odd. He'd felt like this before. When was it? Slowly the memory came back to him. The time he'd snuck into a high end medical clinic looking for evidence and been caught and drugged and tied to an examination table.

Neal instinctively moved his hands to make sure they were free.

"Hey," Neal heard Peter say, "You there?"

Neal cracked his eyes open.

"Peter," His voice came out as a hoarse whisper.

Peter handed Neal a small cup of water and smiled. "You look like crap, Neal."

"Well, you look very blurry." Neal croaked and took several sips from the cup then lay back, closed his eyes and was still for a long moment. When he opened them he could see Peter was frowning.

"Uh, Peter, I can explain."

To his surprise, Peter laughed.

"Ah, Neal. I'll save you the trouble. We knew a lot going in and everything we were missing, Ariel filled in for us."

Neal grew tense. "Ariel?"

Peter nodded. "Don't worry. The DA cut her a deal. The only things we had on her besides the accessory to kidnapping were minor. She got off with probation. Elizabeth's taken quite a liking to her. She's setting her up with a GED exam. If she passes, El's pretty certain she can get her into one of the colleges in the city."

Neal sighed with relief. "She picked out a major yet?"

Peter only grinned.

"What?" Neal asked warily.

"Criminal Justice." Peter laughed.

Neal feigned despair. "Et tu, Ariel?" They both shared a chuckle.

"Speaking of El, is there any chance she might stop by?" Neal said hopefully.

"Oh, she's here." Peter said. "She's downstairs keeping Mozz company."

"He standing outside?" Neal asked.

"Yeah, won't come in. You're friend is odd, Neal."

Neal chuckled. "Mozz kind of has a thing about doctors…and hospitals. He doesn't exactly trust them."

"Mozzie has trust issues." Peter said dryly. "I'm shocked."

Neal chuckled carefully.

"You scared the crap out of me, Neal."

"Ah," Neal brushed off Peter's concern. "I knew you'd find me."

"Yeah, well, I almost didn't." Peter shook his head. "I'm sorry, Neal."

Neal smiled. "What do you have to be sorry about? It was my friends who nabbed me and my plan that blew up in my face."

"No, it was my plan." Peter insisted. "My idea to use you to help solve cases put you in danger and I didn't even see it. I should have been looking out for you, taken precautions."

"Uh, Peter."

"Yeah, Neal?"

"Me joining your team was my idea. In fact, I distinctly remember you brushing me off the first time I suggested it to you."

"Yeah, well, I came back after the…well, after, and talked you into coming back."

Neal opened his eyes wide. "Oh-kay." He said slowly. "Obviously recycling a brilliant idea makes it yours these days. If you want it to be your fault, I'm not gonna argue with you. I'm perfectly happy for you to be wrong."

Peter shook his head and smiled.

"Neal," He said after a moment. "I heard some of what you said."

Neal smiled, "I confess to any new crimes under the influence? Because if I did, I'm claiming diminished capacity."

"Neal for once can you just be serious? You almost died. No, you did die. I wanna say something so just.." Peter huffed a bit. "Just keep quiet for a second and let me say it."

"Okay," Neal nodded but couldn't keep a small smile from his face. "Okay, Peter let's get serious." And then he quite deliberately frowned.

Peter rolled his eyes. "What is that?"

"What?" Neal asked innocently. "I'm being serious."

"No, you're not you're making fun of me." Peter said.

"This is me being serious." Neal insisted. "You said be serious, I'm being serious."

Peter sighed. "I don't even know why I try with you."

"What I shouldn't frown when I'm serious?"

"Neal."

"You frown when you're serious."

"Neal!"

Neal stopped.

"I'm just gonna say this, then I'm going downstairs to get Elizabeth. Would you just be serious and pay attention for this one thing I have to say?"

"Okay, Peter." Neal chuckled a bit ruffled. "I'm listening. I am."

"I heard what your friends were saying. No," Peter waved off Neal's interjection. "No, I heard it and I know it took a lot of faith on your part to keep trusting me. I wanted to say that I really appreciate it. I do trust you Neal and I'm glad you can trust me too."

Neal smiled and opened his mouth but Peter interrupted.

"I'm not done." He insisted.

Neal shut his mouth.

"If you ever, EVER die on me again I will send you back to prison so fast you'll set a land speed record." Peter bellowed.

Neal considered pointing out the fact that Peter couldn't incarcerate a dead body but decided against it.

The END.

* * *

**And that's it! It's over. Done. Finito (that's probably spelled wrong!). I hope the ending didn't disappoint anyone and I thank you very much, (very, very much) for reading my story. =) TTFN!**


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